


Take A Chance On Me

by avianbrother



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Creampie, Everyone gets a chance to bang Mirage, F/M, Female Reader, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avianbrother/pseuds/avianbrother
Summary: You got all dressed up for a blind date only to get stood up. But Mirage is there and he's warm and inviting and...you could use a little company tonight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one is the fem reader version and chapter two is the male reader version
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/avianbrother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One for the gals

Disappointment curled in your chest as you checked your phone for the third time in the past five minutes. No new messages. You sighed and sipped your soda, seriously considering something stronger with a burn that would distract you from your pitiful situation.

You worked in the game offices editing footage and positioning camera drones to get the best shots. Between seasons, you sat down with the marketing and graphics departments to figure out promos and spotlight features of the latest, and most interesting, contenders. It paid well, but it kept you busy. You rarely went out these days. In a serious lapse of judgement, you admitted to a coworker you were feeling lonely and desperately needed a break. So they decided to arrange a blind date for you in the hopes of cheering you up (and maybe get you laid). And that’s what brought you here, waiting in a bar for a date who was supposed to arrive over an hour ago. They didn’t even send a text.

Tears pricked your eyes and you held back sniffles as you wiped them away the best you could without drawing attention. The only thing stopping you from walking out was the effort you put into your outfit—new shoes, fishnets, and a slinky dress. At least you could look good while you drowned your sorrows.

As you tried flagging down the bartender, someone slid into the seat beside you.

“Hey, not to be rude but, uh, we could use some drinks over here!” Your mouth went dry when he spoke because you _knew_ that voice, had heard it so many times on every single broadcast since you started here in Apex.

“M-mirage?” You looked to make sure it was really him and not some hologram he sent to schmooze with fans. No, it was the real deal, perfect hair and everything. Mirage blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t noticed you before. Then he smiled and gave you an appreciative once-over.

“Yeah, that’s me. You probably knew that though, huh? Of course you did, everyone knows me,” he rambled, in that awkward yet endearing way you’ve seen but never experienced up close. He leaned an elbow on the counter in a pose reminiscent of his promo pics and cocked an eyebrow. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Uh…well,” you glanced away and noticed that the bartender had already placed Mirage’s usual in front of him while you hadn’t even ordered. “I was just getting a drink. I could really use one, to be honest.”

“Let me guess—boyfriend giving you trouble? Or girlfriend—I don’t judge, I lean both ways myself,” he said casually. With a flourish of finger guns, a decoy popped up on the opposite side of the counter, grabbing a glass and some bottles to mix together. It gave you sly grin and a wink before focusing on its task. “Lay it on me. You don’t have to, but I’m a pretty good listener, if you want.”

You took a second to think. While your job centered on them, you hardly interacted with the Legends. Mirage had a reputation for being mouthy, annoying, and a bit of an attention whore. But he was handsome and he was friendly, and you needed that right now. Even if you didn’t go home with someone tonight, a little company would soothe the ache in your heart.

“Neither, actually,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t have one. I was supposed to have a blind date but…I guess they changed their mind.” You shrugged and fiddled with your straw, trying to ignore how pathetic you must seem.

He sputtered and grimaced. “What?! That’s prepas—p-propos—fucking rude!”

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “You’re telling me. I get out and dress up for the first time in forever with nothing to show for it. My boss even gave me tomorrow off, told me to have fun.”

His cocky grin softened. The decoy was making small talk with other patrons, the sweet and bubbly mix they made sitting untouched next to your soda. “What do you do? Obviously we know what I do, but what about you? Accountant? Waitress? Stipper? Bet you’d make a cute stripper—oh, s-sorry, was that too much?”

Warm laughter bubbled up and you shook your head, a blush coloring your cheeks. “No! No, I’m a video editor and camera coordinator for the Apex Games. Not as glamorous as a stripper.”

A lightbulb went off for him. “Oh shi—so you’re one of the camera bunnies, right? Thought I recognized you from somewhere, you had that… _familiar_ look about you.” He winced at the lameness of his comment, though you hardly noticed.

“Camera bunnies? Is that what you guys call us?” Not that it was the worst thing you’d been called.

Now it was his turn to blush. Mirage looked away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I—whu—I didn’t start that b-but not all of us call you guys that. Besides, bunnies are adar—adorl—cute as hell. What you do is great, by the way. You guys don’t get enough credit for making us look good. I mean, I look good but getting the right angles doesn’t hurt.”

As he fumbled over his words, you found yourself staring, chin resting in your hand. You didn’t have a favorite Legend and you weren’t allowed to show some more than others. There was something about him though, the way he gestured while he talked and seemed so animated and alive. Even if it sounded like he was buttering you up, there was sincerity to his words. His gaze drifted to you, then away, then back again like he couldn’t decide if he was embarrassed or not. You smiled.

“You’re cute,” you said. And you meant it. He was stunned for a second then quickly recovered. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You’re not so bad yourself. You’re…fucking gorgeous, actually.” He drank you in, eyes raking from the fishnet stockings to your hair. You licked your lips, growing hot under his gaze. He bit his lip, quickly glancing at the decoy. “You uh…you have any plans for tonight? Since whats-his-nut bailed on you?”

“Oh, figured I’d just get wasted and go home all alone,” you drawled. You crossed one leg over the other, subtly lifting the hem of your dress to show a slip of lace at the top of your stockings. He gasped softly at the sight and whispered something too quiet to hear. You swallowed hard, riding the renewed wave of confidence. “Or…” His eyes snapped back to your face. “We could go somewhere, if you want…”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he said, stumbling out of his chair and pausing long enough to toss money on the counter. You stood and attempted to match his clumsy yet hurried strides. He reached back to take your hand, leading you out into the street. “Your place or mine?”

“Either. Doesn’t matter.” God, you could feel his warmth through the gloves.

“How close is yours?”

“It’s not.”

“My place it is.”

The shining tower rose high above the city. From there, the Apex Games were managed. Near the top were penthouse suites reserved for the Legends, whether they chose to live there or not. It was a short distance on foot. As you got closer, Mirage moved his hand to wrap around your waist and hold you tight. Your heart was beating so hard it could burst—you swore he could hear it too. He pressed a feathery kiss to the top of your head before taking you in through one of the service entrances and into the elevator. He gave a gentle squeeze and you thought you would die, you didn’t realize how overworked and touch-starved you were.

And the next thing you knew, you were stumbling down the hallway and following behind as he slid the cardkey into his door. The moment it shut, he pressed you against the door, hands cradling your face as he kissed you. It was soft at first, and then he deepened it, begging entrance with his tongue. You relaxed into his touch, winding your arms around his neck. He settled his hands on your hips, slowly moving them down to your ass. He squeezed roughly then stroked your thighs. You parted your legs for him, nudging him closer so you could feel his arousal rub against you. He hummed in approval before finally parting for air.

“F-ffuuuck you’re killing me here,” he rasped, kissing your cheek and throat.

“I don’t normally do this,” you said weakly. He stopped his affections to look you in the eyes, pupils blown with lust.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured, serious despite the obvious need pressing between you.

“No! No, I want to. I just…don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of…”

He smiled and kissed your lips, light and sweet. “No matter what, I’ll still respect you in morning. The only slut here is me, ‘kay?” You let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“Thank you.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin as he thumbed the tops of your fishnets.

“Call me Elliot. What’s your name?”

You whispered it in his ear. Mirage— _Elliot_ —grinned and sank to his knees, dragging down your stockings as he went.

“Cute. It suits you.” He lifted your foot and helped you out of one shoe then the other, then tossed them aside. He kissed and licked down your thighs, peeling your stockings off. He rucked up your dress and pressed his mouth to your clothed heat, giving you a wink when you felt him playfully tug on your panties. Then those were gone too and he stood, undoing the many buckles and straps of his gear. He backed towards his bedroom. Obediently, you followed.

The holo tech was set on a nearby chair, the gloves and goggles and all the rest fell carelessly to the floor. If it weren’t for the frantic pace in which he stripped, you’d have thought Elliot was putting on a show. You didn’t want to look away. You _couldn’t_ look away. He knew it too.

All that was left was the jumpsuit, unzipped to expose his chest and the delicate trail leading to his cock. He sat back on the edge of his bed, legs spread and waiting. You ran your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch. You grabbed the collar of his suit and yanked it off his shoulders. He helpfully slid his arms out. Lavishing the skin with kisses and love bites, you made your way down his neck and chest. You stopped to tease his nipples with your tongue, earning you a sharp gasp. Fading scars littered his torso. Each one you traced with your lips. When you kneeled between his legs, you looked up, searching for permission.

Elliot let out a low whine, desperate and needy as he bucked his hips. “D-don’t stop. _Please_.”

How could you say no to that?

The tip was already leaking, smearing pre on your fingers when you finally, _finally_ , released his cock from the confines of his jumpsuit and boxers. A few tentative strokes was all he got before you took him as deep as you could, making him swear and fist the sheets in a white-knuckle grip.

“Oh jeez— fuckfuckfuckfuck _fuck_ —baby, that feels so damn good.” The adoring expression on his face as you peered up at him was like an arrow to the heart. You could feel him throb in your mouth. Testing the waters, you let off until only the head was still inside then you sucked hard, sinking back down to the base. He moaned and gently rocked his hips, wanting more. You went faster.

Pretty soon you were drooling around his cock, enslaved by the wanton noises and the way he twitched beneath you. Just when you thought he was going to snap, he wound his fingers in your hair and pulled you off, panting and shaking from being cut off just before climax. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Why--?”

“Can’t cum—have…haven’t cum. _You_ haven’t cum yet…and I wanna make this last.” He waited for you to respond, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Elliot…”

He didn’t give you time for excuses, fumbling with the zipper of your dress. He succeeded in getting it unzipped and you let the garment slide off you. Bright red tinted his cheeks.

“Oh…you, uh…”

You weren’t wearing a bra.

He reached out and cupped your tits, rubbing circles on your nipples with his thumbs. His hands were surprisingly soft despite his hours in the arena. You relaxed, little whimpers eking out every now and then. He massaged your breasts, enjoying the warmth and fullness. You closed your eyes to focus on the sensations. Had it really been that long since someone touched you like this?

Without warning, he reached down and hauled you into his lap. A tiny yelp escaped you only to be quickly silenced by yet more passionate kissing. He carefully rolled to the side so you could sprawl on the bed. Probing your entrance with a finger, then two, nothing could stop the smug grin at the sheer wetness of your core.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

Your response was to snatch him by the wrist and press him deeper. “ _Yes_.”

It was obvious what his intentions were as he settled his head between your thighs, parting your lower lips. The intense suction to your clit still shocked you, had you grasping for purchase because _god_ , this boy knew what he was doing. There were folks that ate pussy with delicacy and refinement. Then there were folks who _ate pussy_. Your cunt was a five course meal and he would devour it until you caved. One hand steadily pumped a few fingers in and out while the other massaged your thigh. He alternated between broad laps and quick flicks of his tongue. You didn’t bother to hold back your gasps and cries—no one would hear you. You writhed, trying not to simply crush his head between your thighs. Not once did he look up, he barely came up for air. When his hand got tired, he put your legs over his shoulders so he could bury his face in your heat.

“Oh fuck! E-Elliot!” The pressure was building. The way he slipped his tongue into you and nudged against that bundle of nerves had you dangling on the edge, ready to slip and shatter.

All of a sudden, he sucked on your clit _hard_ , refusing to let up and you broke, moaning long and loud as your climax overtook you.

You blacked out. Your first good orgasm in forever and you blacked out, the world coming to a stop for a few seconds of blissful nothingness. Then you opened your eyes. You were alive; your trembling limbs and beating heart and the pulsing in your heat told you so. Slowly, you sat up. Elliot was sitting back on his haunches, wiping the glistening marks of your orgasm from his face. He looked almost bashful, if you could ever call him that. He smiled and gently stroked your calf.

“That good, huh?” You chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, pretty fucking good,” you replied. You noticed his still-hard and weeping length. You withdrew your leg then stretched out to nudge his cock with your foot. He bit back a groan. “But I think I’m ready for the main event. Are you?”

Scrambling up, he shucked off the jumpsuit completely, giving you an eyeful of his gorgeous muscular legs. He went searching through the bedside table but you stopped him, taking him by the hand.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

“I…” Embarrassment and fear bubbled up but you tamped it down. You wanted to do this your way tonight. “I’m clean…and I’m on birth control, so if you’re clean, I’m fine with going bare.”

For a few moments, Elliot didn’t respond, and you were afraid that perhaps you said something wrong and this whole thing was gonna come crashing down.

“You mean it?” Tender yet serious, nothing like the Mirage he showed to the world. “I don’t wanna make you uncumt—uncomp—feel bad, okay? I’d love to fuck you without a condom but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

He nodded and crawled on top of you, positioning himself so his cock was rubbing against your wet and aching pussy. He didn’t say anything, simply eased in. With how prepped you were, he sank deep with little effort. You didn’t feel stretched but you felt comfortably, wonderfully _full_ , and you both took a minute to just enjoy the warmth and closeness of each other.

“ _So good_ ,” he whispered. After letting you adjust, he started with slow, grinding thrusts, pulling out an inch or two then ramming back in. You grunted in approval and he sped up, gripping your hips just enough to leave bruises tomorrow.

“I’m not gonna last,” you admitted, still sensitive. You wrapped your legs around his waist and angled your hips to— _oh fuck_ —let him brush against the right spot. That tight coil of pleasure was winding up again and you dug your heels into his ass to make him _fucking move_ so you could cum. “Th-there, don’t stop.”

Elliot either didn’t care or he was so lost in his own pleasure that he didn’t get the message. He bent over, practically folding you in half along the way, kissing you hard and sloppy and nothing like the romantic touches he’s given up til now. He hid his face in your neck and you could feel every breath and grunt as he pounded you. This position was even better, allowing him to bottom out and rub your clit with each thrust. You dragged your blunt nails along his back and that seemed to be the breaking point, because his rhythm grew sloppy and you could hear that tiny, desperate edge to his voice.

“Gon-gonna cum, sweetheart,” he panted.

“It’s okay—cum in me, Elliot. _Please_.”

He came with a ragged cry, holding you close and stilling as warmth flooded your insides. He laid lazy, open-mouthed kisses on you. You nuzzled him in return, wiping the hair from his sweat slick forehead. It was nice, just being held and savoring the twitch of his cock inside you.

“You di-didn’t finish,” he said suddenly. He propped up on his elbows, gauging your expression.

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing,” he scoffed. Despite how sensitive he was, he started thrusting. Shallow, frantic thrusts. One hand went to your clit. “You deserve…to cum twice, got it?”

His tone left no room for argument. Not that you wanted to. Instead you laid back and let him work you to completion once more. His brow furrowed in concentration as he overcame the overstimulation to hit the same spots that had you seeing stars. Your climax didn’t hit you as hard as the first time, but it just as sweet, spreading thick and heavy like honey. And in the afterglow, with your limbs tingling and your heart pounding, he settled down beside you, an arm around your waist. You didn’t bother with the spunk leaking from your hole; you merely closed your eyes and drifted to sleep in the comfort of his embrace.

….

This wasn’t your room, you realized, jolting awake with the fear that you overslept before remembering that you had the day off. The recollection of last night’s turn of events returned. Checking the clock on the bedside table, it was later than you normally woke up. You checked beside you.

Elliot wasn’t there.

Your clothes were neatly folded and sitting on a dresser along with your shoes. A lump formed in your throat. Had you broken some sort of fuck-buddies etiquette? Were you supposed to just grab your shit and leave quietly? The last time you’d had a one-night stand was…fuck, you couldn’t even remember.

Leaving the comfort of the bed, you started to redress in last night’s outfit when you spotted a yellow shirt with a bright pink note attached to it.

_Bet you’d look just as cute in this ;)  
-Mirage <3_

Oh.

When you unfolded it, there was a stylized portrait of him and his logo printed on the front. Oddly enough, you had helped design it for the ad runs. You put on the shirt and padded out into the open suite.

The scent of bacon drifted over, and you could hear Elliot humming as he moved it around in the pan. He wore a cropped tee and loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He didn’t notice your presence as he did a quick spin, holding the spatula to his mouth like a microphone.

“ _If you change your mind, I’m the first in line~ Ooo! Honey, I’m still free~ Take a chance on me_ ~”

“If you weren’t already a legend, you’d make a great front singer,” you said, startling him from his impromptu karaoke.

“Don’t! Fucking! Scare me like that, jeez!” Maybe it was just from the heat of the stove, but you swore he was a little red in the face. You laughed and leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek.

“I’m sowwy~.”

He pouted and sniffled dramatically. “Yeah, well, maybe I won’t let you have my post-sex bacon after all.”

“I thought you liked pork chops?” He shrugged.

“Bacon is no subtib—sustuh—nowhere as good as pork chops, but it’s still pork,” he explained, giving the meat a last jiggle over the burner before dumping it on a plate with a flourish. “Okay, so, I wasn’t planning on you waking up yet, but now you can tell me how you want your eggs. Next time, I’ll make you fancy pancakes with the little fruits and whipped cream on top, you’ll love it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “So…you want to do this again?”

He paused in the middle of cracking an egg on the pan and stared at you, looking like a bizarre cross between a confused puppy and a deer caught in the headlights. “I-I, uh…yeah, I would, actually. If that’s cool with you, I mean.” He turned his attention to the food, as if to distract from how nervous and schoolboyish he was being. “You’re pretty, and pretty sweet, and I’d like to get to know you better outside of just sex. Not that the sex was bad! It was great! But I think you deserve b-better than a one-nighter.”

After a long pause, he finally looked at you. Tears were welling up, and you smiled, wiping them away.

“I’d like that too,” you said. He smiled back, forgetting all about the food in favor of pulling you into a loving kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One for the guys

Disappointment curled in your chest as you checked your phone for the third time in the past five minutes. No new messages. You sighed and sipped your soda, seriously considering something stronger with a burn that would distract you from your pitiful situation.

You worked in the game offices editing footage and positioning camera drones to get the best shots. Between seasons, you sat down with the marketing and graphics departments to figure out promos and spotlight features of the latest, and most interesting, contenders. It paid well, but it kept you busy. You rarely went out these days. In a serious lapse of judgement, you admitted to a coworker you were feeling lonely and desperately needed a break. So they decided to arrange a blind date for you in the hopes of cheering you up (and maybe get you laid). And that’s what brought you here, waiting in a bar for a date who was supposed to arrive over an hour ago. They didn’t even send a text.

Tears pricked your eyes and you held back sniffles as you wiped them away the best you could without drawing attention. The only thing stopping you from walking out was the effort you put into your outfit—new shoes, ass-hugging jeans, and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up just so. At least you could look good while you drowned your sorrows.

As you tried flagging down the bartender, someone slid into the seat beside you.

“Hey, not to be rude but, uh, we could use some drinks over here!” Your mouth went dry when he spoke because you _knew_ that voice, had heard it so many times on every single broadcast since you started here in Apex.

“M-mirage?” You looked to make sure it was really him and not some hologram he sent to schmooze with fans. No, it was the real deal, perfect hair and everything. Mirage blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t noticed you before. Then he smiled and gave you an appreciative once-over.

“Yeah, that’s me. You probably knew that though, huh? Of course you did, everyone knows me,” he rambled, in that awkward yet endearing way you’ve seen but never experienced up close. He leaned an elbow on the counter in a pose reminiscent of his promo pics and cocked an eyebrow. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Uh…well,” you glanced away and noticed that the bartender had already placed Mirage’s usual in front of him while you hadn’t even ordered. “I was just getting a drink. I could really use one, to be honest.”

“Let me guess—girlfriend giving you trouble? Or boyfriend—I don’t judge, I lean both ways myself,” he said casually. With a flourish of finger guns, a decoy popped up on the opposite side of the counter, grabbing a glass and some bottles to mix together. It gave you sly grin and a wink before focusing on its task. “Lay it on me. You don’t have to, but I’m a pretty good listener, if you want.”

You took a second to think. While your job centered on them, you hardly interacted with the Legends. Mirage had a reputation for being mouthy, annoying, and a bit of an attention whore. But he was handsome and he was friendly, and you needed that right now. Even if you didn’t go home with someone tonight, a little company would soothe the ache in your heart.

“Neither, actually,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t have one. I was supposed to have a blind date but…I guess they changed their mind.” You shrugged and fiddled with your straw, trying to ignore how pathetic you must seem.

He sputtered and grimaced. “What?! That’s prepas—p-propos—fucking rude!”

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “You’re telling me. I get out and dress up for the first time in forever with nothing to show for it. My boss even gave me tomorrow off, told me to have fun.”

His cocky grin softened. The decoy was making small talk with other patrons, the sweet and bubbly mix they made sitting untouched next to your soda. “What do you do? Obviously we know what I do, but what about you? Accountant? Waiter? Stipper? Bet you’d make a cute stripper—oh, s-sorry, was that too much?”

Warm laughter bubbled up and you shook your head, a blush coloring your cheeks. “No! No, I’m a video editor and camera coordinator for the Apex Games. Not as glamorous as a stripper.”

A lightbulb went off for him. “Oh shi—so you’re one of the camera bunnies, right? Thought I recognized you from somewhere, you had that… _familiar_ look about you.” He winced at the lameness of his comment, though you hardly noticed.

“Camera bunnies? Is that what you guys call us?” Not that it was the worst thing you’d been called.

Now it was his turn to blush. Mirage looked away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I—whu—I didn’t start that b-but not all of us call you guys that. Besides, bunnies are adar—adorl—cute as hell. What you do is great, by the way. You guys don’t get enough credit for making us look good. I mean, I look good but getting the right angles doesn’t hurt.”

As he fumbled over his words, you found yourself staring, chin resting in your hand. You didn’t have a favorite Legend and you weren’t allowed to show some more than others. There was something about him though, the way he gestured while he talked and seemed so animated and alive. Even if it sounded like he was buttering you up, there was sincerity to his words. His gaze drifted to you, then away, then back again like he couldn’t decide if he was embarrassed or not. You smiled.

“You’re cute,” you said. And you meant it. He was stunned for a second then quickly recovered. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You’re not so bad yourself. You’re…fucking hot, actually.” He drank you in, eyes raking from the tight pants to your hair. You licked your lips, growing hot under his gaze. He bit his lip, quickly glancing at the decoy. “You uh…you have any plans for tonight? Since whats-his-nut bailed on you?”

“Oh, figured I’d just get wasted and go home all alone,” you drawled. You spread your legs, nudging one knee against his. He gasped softly and whispered something too quiet to hear. You swallowed hard, riding the renewed wave of confidence. “Or…” His eyes snapped back to your face. “We could go somewhere, if you want…”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he said, stumbling out of his chair and pausing long enough to toss money on the counter. You stood and attempted to match his clumsy yet hurried strides. He reached back to take your hand, leading you out into the street. “Your place or mine?”

“Either. Doesn’t matter.” God, you could feel his warmth through the gloves.

“How close is yours?”

“It’s not.”

“My place it is.”

The shining tower rose high above the city. From there, the Apex Games were managed. Near the top were penthouse suites reserved for the Legends, whether they chose to live there or not. It was a short distance on foot. As you got closer, Mirage moved his hand to wrap around your waist and hold you tight. Your heart was beating so hard it could burst—you swore he could hear it too. He pressed a feathery kiss to the top of your head before taking you in through one of the service entrances and into the elevator. He gave a gentle squeeze and you thought you would die, you didn’t realize how overworked and touch-starved you were.

And the next thing you knew, you were stumbling down the hallway and following behind as he slid the cardkey into his door. The moment it shut, he pressed you against the door, hands cradling your face as he kissed you. It was soft at first, and then he deepened it, begging entrance with his tongue. You relaxed into his touch, winding your arms around his neck. He settled his hands on your hips, slowly moving them down to your ass. He squeezed roughly then stroked your thighs. You parted your legs for him, nudging him closer so you could feel his arousal rub against yours. He hummed in approval before finally parting for air.

“F-ffuuuck you’re killing me here,” he rasped, kissing your cheek and throat.

“I don’t normally do this,” you said weakly. He stopped his affections to look you in the eyes, pupils blown with lust.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured, serious despite the obvious need pressing between you.

“No! No, I want to. I just…don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of…”

He smiled and kissed your lips, light and sweet. “No matter what, I’ll still respect you in morning. The only slut here is me, ‘kay?” You let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“Thank you.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin as he undid the buttons of your shirt.

“Call me Elliot. What’s your name?”

You whispered it in his ear. Mirage— _Elliot_ —grinned and sank to his knees, unbuckling your belt as he went.

“Cute. It suits you.” He lifted your foot and helped you out of one shoe then the other, then tossed them aside. He kissed and licked down your thighs, pulling off your jeans. You leaned on him for support so you could step out and kick them away. He pressed his mouth to your clothed bulge, giving you a wink when you felt him playfully tug on your underwear. Then those were gone too and he stood, undoing the many buckles and straps of his gear. He backed towards his bedroom. Obediently, you followed.

The holo tech was set on a nearby chair, the gloves and goggles and all the rest fell carelessly to the floor. If it weren’t for the frantic pace in which he stripped, you’d have thought Elliot was putting on a show. You didn’t want to look away. You _couldn’t_ look away. He knew it too.

All that was left was the jumpsuit, unzipped to expose his chest and the delicate trail leading to his cock. He sat back on the edge of his bed, legs spread and waiting. You ran your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch. You grabbed the collar of his suit and yanked it off his shoulders. He helpfully slid his arms out. Lavishing the skin with kisses and love bites, you made your way down his neck and chest. You stopped to tease his nipples with your tongue, earning you a sharp gasp. Fading scars littered his torso. Each one you traced with your lips. When you kneeled between his legs, you looked up, searching for permission.

Elliot let out a low whine, desperate and needy as he bucked his hips. “D-don’t stop. _Please_.”

How could you say no to that?

The tip was already leaking, smearing pre on your fingers when you finally, _finally_ , released his cock from the confines of his jumpsuit and boxers. A few tentative strokes was all he got before you took him as deep as you could, making him swear and fist the sheets in a white-knuckle grip.

“Oh jeez— fuckfuckfuckfuck _fuck_ —baby, that feels so damn good.” The adoring expression on his face as you peered up at him was like an arrow to the heart. You could feel him throb in your mouth. Testing the waters, you let off until only the head was still inside then you sucked hard, sinking back down to the base. He moaned and gently rocked his hips, wanting more. You went faster.

Pretty soon you were drooling around his cock, enslaved by the wanton noises and the way he twitched beneath you. Just when you thought he was going to snap, he wound his fingers in your hair and pulled you off, panting and shaking from being cut off just before climax. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Why--?”

“Can’t cum—have…haven’t cum. _You_ haven’t cum yet…and I wanna make this last.” He waited for you to respond, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Elliot…”

He didn’t give you time for excuses, fumbling with your shirt and nearly tearing it as he got it off you. Without warning, he reached down and hauled you into his lap. A tiny yelp escaped you only to be quickly silenced by yet more passionate kissing. He carefully rolled to the side so you could sprawl on the covers. Taking a second to dig around in his bedside table, he chucked a bottle of lube on the bed. He slicked up his fingers. Instinctively, you parted your legs for him.

Probing your entrance with a finger, then two, nothing could stop the smug grin at the thick beads of pre leaking from your cock.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

Your response was to snatch him by the wrist and press him deeper. “ _Yes_.”

The slight burn of being stretched open had your toes curling and your cock throbbing. Had it really been that long since someone touched you like this?

It was obvious what his intentions were as he settled his head between your thighs. The intense suction to your dick still shocked you, had you grasping for purchase because _god_ , this boy knew what he was doing. There were folks that sucked dick with delicacy and refinement, giving it little kitten licks and the occasional stroke. Then there were folks who _sucked dick_. Your cock was god’s gift to him and he would savor every last bit of it. One hand steadily pumped a couple fingers in and out while the other massaged your thigh. He alternated between broad laps of his tongue along your shaft and quick flicks along the slit. You didn’t bother to hold back your gasps and cries—no one would hear you. You writhed, trying not to simply crush his head between your thighs. Not once did he look up, he barely came up for air. When his hand got tired, he put your legs over his shoulders so he could bury your cock in his throat.

“Oh fuck! E-Elliot!” The pressure was building. The way he worshipped you with his mouth and nudged against your prostate had you dangling on the edge, ready to slip and shatter.

All of a sudden, he sucked on the tip _hard_ , refusing to let up and you broke, moaning long and loud as your climax overtook you.

You blacked out. Your first good orgasm in forever and you blacked out, the world coming to a stop for a few seconds of blissful nothingness. Then you opened your eyes. You were alive; your trembling limbs and beating heart and the pulsing of your cock told you so. Slowly, you sat up. Elliot was sitting back on his haunches, swallowing the remains of your release. He looked almost bashful, if you could ever call him that. He smiled and gently stroked your calf.

“That good, huh?” You chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, pretty fucking good,” you replied. You noticed his still-hard and weeping length. You withdrew your leg then stretched out to nudge his cock with your foot. He bit back a groan. “But I think I’m ready for the main event. Are you?”

Scrambling up, he shucked off the jumpsuit completely, giving you an eyeful of his gorgeous muscular legs. He went searching through the bedside table but you stopped him, taking him by the hand.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

“I…” Embarrassment and fear bubbled up but you tamped it down. You wanted to do this your way tonight. “I’m clean… so if you’re clean, I’m fine with going bare.”

For a few moments, Elliot didn’t respond, and you were afraid that perhaps you said something wrong and this whole thing was gonna come crashing down.

“You mean it?” Tender yet serious, nothing like the Mirage he showed to the world. “I don’t wanna make you uncumt—uncomp—feel bad, okay? I’d love to fuck you without a condom but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

He nodded and crawled on top of you, positioning himself so his cock was rubbing against your hole. He didn’t say anything, simply eased in. With how prepped you were, he sank deep with little effort. You didn’t feel stretched but you felt comfortably, wonderfully _full_ , and you both took a minute to just enjoy the warmth and closeness of each other.

“ _So good_ ,” he whispered. After letting you adjust, he started with slow, grinding thrusts, pulling out an inch or two then ramming back in. You grunted in approval and he sped up, gripping your hips just enough to leave bruises tomorrow.

“I’m not gonna last,” you admitted, still sensitive. You wrapped your legs around his waist and angled your hips to— _oh fuck_ —let him brush against the right spot. That tight coil of pleasure was winding up again and you dug your heels into his ass to make him _fucking move_ so you could cum. “Th-there, don’t stop.”

Elliot either didn’t care or he was so lost in his own pleasure that he didn’t get the message. He bent over, practically folding you in half along the way, kissing you hard and sloppy and nothing like the romantic touches he’s given up til now. He hid his face in your neck and you could feel every breath and grunt as he pounded you. This position was even better, allowing him to bottom out and rub your prostate with each thrust. You dragged your blunt nails along his back and that seemed to be the breaking point, because his rhythm grew sloppy and you could hear that tiny, desperate edge to his voice.

“Gon-gonna cum, sweetheart,” he panted.

“It’s okay—cum in me, Elliot. _Please_.”

He came with a ragged cry, holding you close and stilling as warmth flooded your insides. He laid lazy, open-mouthed kisses on you. You nuzzled him in return, wiping the hair from his sweat slick forehead. It was nice, just being held and savoring the twitch of his cock inside you.

“You di-didn’t finish,” he said suddenly. He propped up on his elbows, gauging your expression.

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing,” he scoffed. Despite how sensitive he was, he started thrusting. Shallow, frantic thrusts. One hand went to your dick. “You deserve…to cum twice, got it?”

His tone left no room for argument. Not that you wanted to. Instead you laid back and let him work you to completion once more. His brow furrowed in concentration as he overcame the overstimulation to hit the same spots that had you seeing stars. Your climax didn’t hit you as hard as the first time, but it just as good, making you clench and ache beautifully. And in the afterglow, with your limbs tingling and your heart pounding, he settled down beside you, an arm around your waist. You didn’t bother with the spunk leaking from your hole or spattered on your abdomen; you merely closed your eyes and drifted to sleep in the comfort of his embrace.

….

This wasn’t your room, you realized, jolting awake with the fear that you overslept before remembering that you had the day off. The recollection of last night’s turn of events returned. Checking the clock on the bedside table, it was later than you normally woke up. You checked beside you.

Elliot wasn’t there.

Your clothes were neatly folded and sitting on a dresser along with your shoes. A lump formed in your throat. Had you broken some sort of fuck-buddies etiquette? Were you supposed to just grab your shit and leave quietly? The last time you’d had a one-night stand was…fuck, you couldn’t even remember.

Leaving the comfort of the bed, you started to redress in last night’s outfit when you spotted a yellow shirt and shorts with a bright pink note attached to it.

_Bet you’d look just as cute in this ;)  
-Mirage <3_

Oh.

When you unfolded it, there was a stylized portrait of him and his logo printed on the front. Oddly enough, you had helped design it for the ad runs. “Bamboozle” was stamped across the ass of the shorts, making you snort in amusement. You put on the shirt and bottoms and padded out into the open suite.

The scent of bacon drifted over, and you could hear Elliot humming as he moved it around in the pan. He wore a cropped tee and loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He didn’t notice your presence as he did a quick spin, holding the spatula to his mouth like a microphone.

“ _If you change your mind, I’m the first in line~ Ooo! Honey, I’m still free~ Take a chance on me_ ~”

“If you weren’t already a legend, you’d make a great front singer,” you said, startling him from his impromptu karaoke.

“Don’t! Fucking! Scare me like that, jeez!” Maybe it was just from the heat of the stove, but you swore he was a little red in the face. You laughed and leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek.

“I’m sowwy~.”

He pouted and sniffled dramatically. “Yeah, well, maybe I won’t let you have my post-sex bacon after all.”

“I thought you liked pork chops?” He shrugged.

“Bacon is no subtib—sustuh—nowhere as good as pork chops, but it’s still pork,” he explained, giving the meat a last jiggle over the burner before dumping it on a plate with a flourish. “Okay, so, I wasn’t planning on you waking up yet, but now you can tell me how you want your eggs. Next time, I’ll make you fancy pancakes with the little fruits and whipped cream on top, you’ll love it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “So…you want to do this again?”

He paused in the middle of cracking an egg on the pan and stared at you, looking like a bizarre cross between a confused puppy and a deer caught in the headlights. “I-I, uh…yeah, I would, actually. If that’s cool with you, I mean.” He turned his attention to the food, as if to distract from how nervous and schoolboyish he was being. “You’re pretty, and pretty sweet, and I’d like to get to know you better outside of just sex. Not that the sex was bad! It was great! But I think you deserve b-better than a one-nighter.”

After a long pause, he finally looked at you. Tears were welling up, and you smiled, wiping them away.

“I’d like that too,” you said. He smiled back, forgetting all about the food in favor of pulling you into a loving kiss.


End file.
